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Oh yeah. Today, got onto my flight in a friggin TEENY Q400 prop plane, seat 6B. I was almost the last person to board and 6A was blessedly empty. Good thing, since these seats are about 5 inches across.

Then, of course, it happened. Large and in charge woman trundling down the aisle, eye tuning into the empty seat beside me. “here it comes,” I think to myself. The shy look. The almost apologetic, “I have to ask you to get up out of your seat so I can wedge myself in, risking damage to the plane window as I maneuver in. Oh, and you will have no chance of actually sitting in your seat since my ass will consume it.”

Indeed. Now, I don’t really mind large people sitting next to me. I can bear – I’m 150 pounds soaking wet, so it’s not like I need a lot of room to read a book on a plane. However, and this is what set me off, she put the armrest up without asking. What the fuck? It’s an armrest – I’m sorry if your girth doesn’t allow you to sit comfortably as the metal and plastic makes a temporary valley in your peniculus, but that isn’t my fucking problem.

(actual picture of the person after I moved behind her – you can see, she takes up plenty o’ seat)

I look at her with a look of “WTF?” She smiles back, slightly sweaty, with that shit-eating grin that says “yes, I know I’m big, but you love me.” No, no I don’t. Anyway, as soon as I saw the front door close, I practically knocked a hayseed over as I leapt back to the empty seat behind me. He was pissed, but I just looked at my previously vacated spot, and as his eyes went there too, he understood and backed off. Finally, to add insult to injury, as I’m sitting behind her in the relative utopia of an empty seat, she breaks out a WHOLE FUCKING BAG OF PEANUT M&Ms and begins to chomp on them as if she hadn’t eaten for months. Which, clearly, is not the case.

The other funny thing – across the aisle from me is a dude who is trying to be a badass/hipster/fake church-goer – I can’t tell. Spiky hair, designer PRADA glasses, jeans with way too much ornamentation on them. In any case, he has literally been engrossed in US magazine since I got on the plane. Engrossed – hasn’t looked up once. Fascinating.

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3 thoughts on “Cliches on the Plane!”

Oh, this is the nice version of the post. Whole BAG of M&Ms! Come on! I don\’t purge when I get on a plane (thus furthering my weight decline into nothingness), so why does she need to eat a whole bag of peanut M&Ms?

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